


The Same Sentence

by ninjamartinfreema



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Cuddling & Snuggling, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-15
Updated: 2014-01-15
Packaged: 2018-01-08 20:52:38
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 642
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1137255
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ninjamartinfreema/pseuds/ninjamartinfreema
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John is cozied up in Baker Street on a cold morning and just can't figure out what is stopping him from reading his book.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Same Sentence

John sat on the couch, content with his book in his lap and his toes tucked into beneath the cushion. A certain detective had been impossibly irritable without a case for the last few days, and the flat was in a rare moment of peace and silence as the dark haired genius finally slept.

The blogger was determined to enjoy the brief interlude before Sherlock woke, and the chaos returned. He was absolutely determined, and convinced this was exactly what he needed.

His feet were thoroughly chilled and he wished for a blanket that wasn’t halfway across the room, but as it was unlikely he could compel the blanket to cross the living room, he simply burrowed his toes further into the couch and read.

…And read the same sentence he had read six times now and not gotten a word of it. Something was keeping John from basking in his precious moments of silence and he couldn’t sort out what it was.

It had been this way all morning, since he had dragged himself out from underneath gangly limbs and soft curls to settle down and read. He had a good book and even though he couldn’t reach a blanket, the steaming cup of tea he had just finished had been helping to ward off the. Everything should have been perfectly in order except…

John huffed and picked up his mug, traveling into the kitchen. He got out the box of tea from the cabinet and set the kettle on the stove. As the water heated up, John walked back into the living room and retrieved the blanket to throw it on the couch, where he would count on it waiting for him to return.

When all was done, he settled back in, opened to the page he had turned down, found his spot and read the sentence a seventh time.

This time he got about halfway through when Sherlock stumbled down the hall and into the room, yawning. John’s eyes clenched shut in exasperation, and when he opened them again, he looked at Sherlock over the top of his book. His hair was a wreck and he was still in his pajamas as he surveyed the room blearily for a moment before his gaze settled on John.

“You left,” Sherlock complained as he trekked towards the sofa. “The bed’s not as warm without you. It woke me up.” He reached the sofa, pulled John’s blanket off, and without missing a beat let himself fall on top of John who managed an “oof” and a somewhat breathless protest. “Sherlock, what are you-“ “Hush,” Sherlock’s head rubbed against John’s jumper and settled in. “I want to sleep.” John opened his mouth and closed it, shaking his head. Stubborn git.

He grudgingly enjoyed the new source of warmth, and awkwardly fumbled with his book for a moment, not wanting to have to hold it in the air to read the whole time. He settled on resting the book on top of Sherlock’s head and felt unreasonably pleased at the small act of defiance. Then he read the sentence an eighth time and moved on to the sentence after that.

And he kept reading until a while later when Sherlock murmured something and snuggled into him closer. John was pulled out of the story into a small moment of confusion before he settled back into reality. And took in the lanky detective sprawled cat-like on top of him. John smiled softly as he realized. ‘Ah. So that’s what it was.’ He turned the corner of his page down and placed the book on the table. One of his calloused hands rested on Sherlock’s back and the other carded through his dark curls. And the gentle smile didn’t leave his face even when his head and eyelids drooped and he joined his partner in sleep.


End file.
